


Take my hand

by Khalehla



Series: Souls on Fire [4]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: 2009 U17 boys friendship, Dorks in Love, Fluff and Humor, Future events, Learning to really love, M/M, Resolution, Rival Relationship, Self-Discovery, Self-Indulgent, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, dorks being dorks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-05-30 18:02:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 4,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6434710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khalehla/pseuds/Khalehla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just Marc-André and Bernd, being all sweet and stuff [and who'd'a thunk they'd have it them?]</p><p>Companion piece to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/6434605?view_full_work=true">An unexpected interlude</a></p><p>--<br/>Ch 01-05: Hands - subtle physical affection<br/>Ch 06-10: Moments - snapshots of fluffiness<br/>Ch 11-15: Scenes - defining moments<br/>Ch 16-20: Three - speaking without words</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hands: Sleep

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tmrs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tmrs/gifts).



> A change of pace, and there's no reason for it except I had a bunch of scenarios in my head that would really only work in an AU.
> 
> Set in the [Beyond the masks we wear](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6071056/chapters/13915015) universe/timeline, and it's nothing but fluff - you've been warned. Please don't send me your dentist bills, I'm a poor post-grad student.
> 
>  **tmrs** , my incredible friend, everything in this universe belongs to you - even my beloved Steno. Enjoy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set the night after [This is us](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6434605/chapters/14729035)

Bernd knows the exact moment when Marc-André wakes. It's the way that the other keeper reaches out in the empty spaces of the bed, his hand seeking out the presence of a warm body that should be there. Even only partially awake, Marc knows enough to keep looking when he doesn't find what [who] he is looking for, and his other hand continues the search without him even raising his face from where it's buried in the pillow.

Bernd can't resist rolling his eyes, because it makes him wonder where Marc thinks he will be at half-past- _middle of the fucking night_ , as though Bernd's just gonna wake up and decide that yep, stupid o'clock is a good time to be wandering around the streets of Liverpool (or Köln or wherever it is they happen to be).

Before Marc can fully wake and work himself into worry, Bernd puts the glass of water down onto the side table, crawls onto the bed and places a kiss on the back of his neck, then settles in under the sheets. Marc still hasn't even opened his eyes, but visibly relaxes in his semi-asleep state, reaching out until their hands are touching. Bernd links their little fingers together, waiting for Marc's breathing to finally even out before falling asleep again himself.


	2. Hands: Christmas conversations

Marc-André is nervous, and Bernd can't really blame him. Given that he himself would be in the same situation soon enough, he can't even resent the look of panic on the other keeper's face, making it very clear that if he could, he would run away screaming right now. But they'd have to get it over and done with eventually, and they may as well see it through sooner rather than later. At least that way they can get on with trying to recover from the inevitable trauma of it all.

"I need to call them now," Bernd advises him, "so if you're going to change your mind, you better get out of the way before they pick up."

Marc stops pacing, his face tense when he hears the sound of the dial tone, and Bernd concentrates on the computer as his brother connects the video call and the faces of his family fill up the screen. He can't help it, grins broadly when his niece and nephew yell "Uncle Bernd!" and he wishes he was there with them.

But then he feels Marc sit next to him, sees his brother's eyes widen before a shit-eating grin crosses his face, hears Marc say "Merry Christmas" whilst waving shyly to the camera. For a moment there's an awkward pause, then everyone starts talking at once, and Bernd releases the breath he didn't even know he's been holding. He slides one hand under the table to link his little finger with Marc's, hoping to hell that when it's his turn, it's as easy as this.


	3. Hands: Roommates

Having two people in his allocated room during international break isn’t what Marc-André expects when he opens the door, and he scowls when he sees who’s inside.

Both Bernd and Christoph stare at him in surprise and they all stand there looking at each other for a moment until Christoph asks, “What did you guys do to piss Jogi off so much that he put you in the same room?”

Marc groans, muttering “Oh, hell no.” Not because Bernd is his roommate, but because from the expression on Christoph’s face, Marc knows that their friend plans on shadowing them the whole time for the sole purpose of being an annoying shit.

Christoph misinterprets Marc’s reaction, and grins widely at the two keepers. “This will be fun,” he exclaims with glee, heading for the door.

Marc rolls his eyes and drags his suitcase past Bernd, who waits until Christoph is in the hallway before brushing their hands, linking their little fingers in hello; it's been months since they'd seen each other.

"Good flight?” he asks despite knowing how much the other keeper hated the channel crossings, laughing when Marc flips him off.

“Mario smuggled in those lollies you love so much,” Marc says, rolling his eyes again when Bernd’s eyes light up.

“I’ll see you downstairs,” Bernd replies, before hurrying out the room.

Marc just shakes his head.


	4. Hands: Non-rival togetherness

Bernd is anxious. Marc-André can tell because despite the slightly bored expression on the other keeper’s face, he hadn’t stopped drumming his fingers on the side of the chair since the referee blew his whistle to commence the game. Everyone’s watching the match intently and Marc usually does as well, but the constant _ta-rat-ta-rat-ta-rat_ is distracting as hell, making him almost wish he had sat somewhere else. Almost.

They'd gotten incredulous looks from their teammates (and a wink from Marco) when they sat next to each other, but Marc refused to worry about that, deliberately ignoring that, yes, they'd rarely voluntarily done that before, because although the chances of them playing were practically zero with Manu again in the form he was in, it didn’t negate the fact that they were there, _together_ , at an international tournament, and it is still exciting as ever.

But he seriously couldn’t take 90 minutes of Bernd’s nervous tic, so he slowly drops his hand into the space between them, wraps his little finger around Bernd’s, effectively stopping the other keeper from continuing his drumming. Marc doesn’t let go until Thomas scores the first goal and they jump up in celebration.


	5. Hands: Deserved holiday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set some days after [chapter 5](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6071056/chapters/14962150) of Beyond the masks we wear.

Marc-André is questioning his life choices when the plane bucks violently and it's all he can do to stop emptying the contents of his stomach in the interior of the first class cabin.

"You okay?" Bernd asks, reaching over to hook their little fingers together, concerned.

Marc doesn't open his eyes, just twists his hand so they are palm-to-palm, hands clasped. "I don't know if I'm still hung over from Berlin or drunk from the wedding," he admits.

"Life partners celebration," Bernd corrects, amused.

"That too." The plane lurches again and Marc groans.

"At least it's only a quick flight," Bernd soothes. He'd been the designated 'responsible' one of the two of them and had drunk significantly less, hence his enviably sober state. "You can sleep once we get to Greece."

"Sleep is good," Marc agrees, sinking deeper into his chair and concentrating on the feel of Bernd's thumb making comforting patterns on his hand. Three hours, he could survive three hours.

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So now that all this cavity-causing fluff is done (phew), just the angst fic to go and this universe is done-ski... yay!!


	6. Moments: Keep it close

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was supposed to let this universe rest but these dorks just won't leave me alone...  
> \--  
> So the order of reading is chapter 5, [Firsts](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6434605/chapters/15364846), then from here.

Marc-André is up to the last episode of the current series when Bernd enters the room, yawning widely and heading straight for the bathroom. Because he is so engrossed with the twisted plotline, it takes Marc until after Bernd has come out of his shower and crawled into bed for Marc to realise that Bernd had fallen asleep in Marc's bed, and not his own.

When the episode finally ends, Marc stares at Bernd in exasperation for all of 2 seconds, then shrugs. Leaving his laptop on the empty bed, he nudges the other keeper around to make room for him; there's so little space that he doesn’t even have to reach out to link their little fingers together. As inconvenient as sharing a single-bed may be, Marc sleepily thinks that moments like this, he'll give up comfort for closeness any day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sharing a bed might _seem_ romantic, but it's hardly practical. Which they, naturally, find out the hard way... You can read all about _that_ particular misadventure on [Catch me I'm falling.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7250728/chapters/16463194)


	7. Moments: Sharing is caring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A tumblr repost

“What’s all this?” Bernd asks when Marc-André  hands him a small package during break.

“A handful of shirts and jumpers. Oh and that horrible hoody you said you wanted last time you were over.”

“Did you go shopping for you or me? I distinctly remember you mentioning that you wanted to get this particular design.”

Marc just shrugs. “Does it matter? Not like you don’t wear my clothes anyway.”

When Bernd gets back to Köln, he adds the bundle to his wardrobe, taking time to notice that he has no idea if he bought half the contents or if they’re Marc’s. Moments like this, he’s glad they’re practically the same size, sharing is less of a problem that way.


	8. Moments: My kitchen rules

He comes home to a surprise. Well, two surprises, actually. The first is a certain keeper who wasn’t sure if he could make his flight on time since training had been extended to include a 2-hour tactical session that afternoon. Marc-André had already accepted that Bernd probably wouldn’t make it, so he’s really happy about this particular surprise.

The second is the newly gadgetised kitchen.

“What’s this?”

“Your upgraded cooking station – now includes a wall-mounted iPad hooked up to wireless internet and bluetooth speakers,” Bernd says proudly. “I was trying to watch YouTube, but your range sounds like a wind-tunnel – how do you hear the cooking instructions with so much noise?”

“I manage,” Marc shrugs. “Does this mean you have food ready?”

Bernd gives him a withering look. “I only just got back from buying all this stuff – when was I supposed to cook as well? That’s your contribution.”

Marc just grins, crowding Bernd up against the counter. He’d take endless cooking duties if he got to have more moments like this.


	9. Moments: Ignore me at your peril

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For **firetruckyeah** because you wanted more Steno fluff :) enjoy

Bernd is ignoring him. Okay, maybe he's not really ignoring him, but since Bernd had discovered Marc-André's Carlo Ruiz Zafón novels that morning, he'd barely said a word or moved from the couch; and at first it was okay, but five hours later, Marc is  _bored_. In order to get some sort of attention, Marc unceremoniously sits in his former rival's lap.

Bernd makes a noise which is part tutting, part annoyance and part surprise, then shifts until Marc is no longer crushing him but sitting between his legs – never once taking his eyes off the book. Marc huffs, and is about to take drastic measures to get Bernd to put the book down when he feels the other keeper pull him closer, his hand absentmindedly reaching under Marc's shirt to make soothing patterns. Marc stops, momentarily forgetting what he was meant to be doing. But since it's been a while since he read the books, Marc decides that maybe reading along with Bernd is a perfectly legitimate way of spending time together, so he leans back into the other keeper, making himself comfortable. Moments like this, maybe being ignored isn't so bad after all.


	10. Moments: Life anonymous

There are some very distinct disadvantages to being relatively famous, and getting recognised when you really don’t want to is definitely one of them. Arriving at the restaurant was quite easy when there’d been considerably less people, but leaving is a different challenge altogether.

“Just go first,” Marc-André says, nudging Bernd in the direction of the front door. “I’ll pay and we’ll meet you up front.”

Keeping his head down, Bernd grabs his coat, hurrying through the restaurant in alarm when he hears a table excitedly point out Marc with his parents.

It’s such a pain in the ass trying not get caught, but moments like this, as they say their goodbyes and Renate fusses over him as much as she does with Marc, that Bernd thinks it may be worth it after all.


	11. Scenes: Tournament

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Might make more sense if you read [Smile](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6409738/chapters/14673676), as this is kind of a part 2, but also stands on its own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Language Warning:** a lot of F-bombs dropping

"Fuck you!"

Bernd freezes, then very slowly turns on his heels to make his way to the kitchen. He comes back moments later, glass of water in hand, drinking slowly as Marc-André tries to get his breathing under control. Bernd then sits down, face set in a passive mask, lips pinched in a straight line; he stares at Marc for maybe a minute.

And then he cackles. Actually throws his head back and cackles. Not just any cackle, but an honest to goodness if-this-were-the-middle-ages-he-would-be-tied-to-a-stake-and-burnt-as-a-witch type cackle, because it's that evil.

"Best of five, then?" Bernd asks once he's finished, eyes wide in fake innocence.

Marc is gripping onto the controller so tight he thinks he might break it.

Because Bernd fucking Leno's got that shit-eating grin on his face that's showing all his fucking dimples that's making Marc's treacherous body want to fucking punch him in the face and then fuck him hard up against the wall, and seriously? How dare Bernd use his own weaknesses against him?!

Stop.

Breathe.

Just breathe.

In and out.

In and out.

He is not going to kill Bernd because he actually kinda likes him alive, even though right now he would very much like to throttle him because he's smirking in that way that means he's deliberately being an annoying prick. And now the sadistic _bastard_ is licking his lips. _Fuck_ Leno and his fucking dimples and fucking unbeaten FIFA run because all Marc wants to do right now is-

Okay STOP.

Breathe. In and out.

That's better.

"Best of five and new teams," Marc finally agrees.

Bernd nods, then has the audacity to _wink_  at him.

"Fuck you," Marc-André hisses as he throws the controller away and lunges at the other keeper. They never do finish their tournament.


	12. Scenes: Count to three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the hidden meaning can be so obvious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set in the distant future.

If the tension in the air got any thicker, Marc-André thinks he could slice it up and serve it for dinner at Kevin’s restaurant. He’s still waiting for Bernd to say something at his news, and unease is starting to constrict his chest as the seconds tick away.

“I’m happy for you, I _am_ ,” Bernd says eventually, trying to reassure him, “and it makes sense if you think about it – it’s the only thing Bayern can really do under the circumstances.”

Marc wants to believe Bernd’s really okay with this, but doesn’t want to push, knowing the other keeper will close up if he does. “Nothing should change,” he says hopefully, nudging their shoulders.

Bernd gives him a small smile, something like understanding in his eyes, and Marc leans in to place three short, chaste kisses to the corner of his counterpart’s mouth, a heartbeat in between each one. It’s not unconscious, it’s a deliberate choice of three, always three, and Marc is glad he's never needed to explain the meaning behind it.

“We’ll be okay,” Bernd murmurs, linking their little fingers together.

It’s only then that Marc starts to breath easier again.


	13. Scenes: Domestic habits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They've come to know each other so well.  
> 

“Where the hell did you get this? It tastes horrible.”

Bernd looks up from his book to see Marc-André making a disgusted face at the open packet of kale chips in his hand. Despite the fact the other keeper is obviously not enjoying what he is eating, he hasn’t stopped shoving them in his mouth.

“They’re supposed to be very good for you,” Bernd informs him.

“You couldn’t find any healthy chips that actually taste good?”

Bernd rolls his eyes. “You know you don’t have to keep eating if you don’t like it; you do have a choice.”

“My choices are rather limited when this is all you have,” Marc counters, waving the now half-empty bag at him.

Bernd usually didn’t buy junk food unless he was in real need of comfort food, but he’d gotten into the habit of dropping by the shops whenever Marc was scheduled to come over given the other keeper’s tendency to look for snacks when he was either bored or playing FIFA.

“In the pantry, second last shelf – there’s the rice crackers you like and a packet of corn chips behind the pasta.”

“You _hid_ them?” Marc demands, incredulous.

“I _know_ you,” Bernd replies simply, going back to his reading as Marc heads to the kitchen to rummage for the hidden goods.


	14. Scenes: Negotiations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bernd and Marc-André planning the future without even realising it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The penultimate chapter, one to go.

“No.”

“Come on, you-”

“No.”

“But-”

“No.”

Bernd huffs in frustration, trying to come up with another more convincing argument when Marc-André puts his hand up to stop him. “The answer is still going to be no, no matter what you say,” Marc declares. “I told you it was a bad idea, but you didn’t listen to me.”

“Please?” Bernd asks, putting on his best kicked puppy dog face.

Marc just laughs. “You’re not Mario, you’re not going to get away with that, you know.”

“It was worth a try,” Bernd sighs in resignation. He pauses, then narrows his eyes. “Okay, what if-”

“Seriously, Bernd? _No_.”

“I don’t see why not,” Bernd wheedles.

Marc throws his hands up in the air. “I have everything to lose and nothing to gain – you know that. There’s almost literally nothing in it for me.”

Bernd tips his head to the side. “I’ll let you choose the next holiday,” he offers.

“Is _that_ all?”

“How is that not a big deal?” Bernd sounds scandalised. “If you had it your way, we’d probably end up at the Lego Museum then buying Death Stars at the Lego factory or something!”

“Hey, that’s not a bad idea,” Marc says, eyes lighting up.

“It’s also _not_ the point!”

“And it’s still not worth it for me,” Marc reminds him. “Five holidays.”

“Two,” Bernd counteroffers.

“Three, and you’ve got a deal.”

“Done!”

They look at each other for a few moments before Marc finally says, “I’m going to seriously regret, this, aren’t I?”

“Probably,” Bernd agrees.


	15. Scenes: Photograph

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so it all ends...

They’d been fighting. Again. And although it hadn’t gotten ugly yet, it was well on it it’s way, and they knew, knew themselves and each other too well, that if one of them didn’t stop now, there would be too much damage done for whatever they still had to be salvaged. So Marc-André had left, or at least tried to, and that’s when it all went horribly, irretrievably wrong.

Everything happened in slow motion then: Marc grabbing his jacket off the back of the couch much too quickly; the phone flying out of the pocket; Bernd’s goalkeeping reflexes kicking in and trying to grab the phone mid-air only to knock it towards the display cabinet; the phone crashing straight into the photo of them like a messenger of doom.

It’s the only concession they’d made of having any evidence of _them_ in their apartment, and only because it was a gift from Daniel and he was over enough that to _not_ have it would have been an insult to Bernd’s brother. It wasn’t even a conventional photograph, it was one of those crystal engraved photos of them at the last World Cup, walking side-by-side after the celebrations, backs to the camera but body language showing just how happy they had been.

[“Do you have any idea how hard it was to get that made?” Daniel laughed, “I had to get the entire team done just so it wouldn’t look suspicious asking for one of just the two of you!”]

And now it lay shattered on the ground, a crazy, backhanded metaphor of their relationship, and they just stare for silent moments, thinking, realising, _knowing_ , that as metaphors go, it still didn't come close to reflecting just how broken they truly were.

It’s their reality, and that's what hurts the most.


	16. Three: Interruptions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The 2009 U17 boys + Marco on holiday.
> 
> Bernd and Marc-André, being sweet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THREE: 5 ficlets based on [Count to Three.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6434710/chapters/15807445)

Bernd wakes up from his nap to a towel landing on his back.

“You’re going to get sunburnt,” Marc-André says when Bernd slowly opens his eyes to blink at his counterpart.

“You guys are back already?” Bernd asks, shifting over so that the other keeper could sit on the pool chair he was lying on.

“Yeah,” Marc says, leaning down to him.

Bernd turns his head without thinking when he feels the kiss on the corner of his mouth, catching the second and about to reciprocate the third when he hears someone yell out “Oh my god!”

They both look up to see Yunus and Mario standing in the doorway, Yunus’ hands covering his eyes. “My eyes! My poor eyes!” he’s saying tragically. “They’ll never be the same again! Some things you just can’t un-see!”

They exchange a long suffering but fond look as Bernd rolls off the lounge chair and they follow Yunus and Mario back into to their rented villa.

“Stop exaggerating,” Bernd says, snapping the towel against Yunus’ backside. “You technically didn’t see anything.”

“But now I’m going to be imagining what exactly I _didn’t_ see,” Yunus shudders dramatically, “and that’s just as bad.”

“Oh come now,” Shkodran laughs, looking up from where he and Marco are doing a puzzle, “we’ve all seen Mario and Marco doing worse.”

“And I’m still trying to recover from that,” Yunus agrees, shuddering again. “We’re going to have start talking about acceptable levels of ickiness when we’re all on holidays.”

“Does that mean no more sex in the hot-tub?” Marco asks with a perfectly straight face, making the other four burst into laughter.

Yunus stares at him with horror. “Oh my _god_! I use that thing every day! What the fuck?!”

“We also probably shouldn’t tell you about the midnight skinny-dipping, then,” Mario grins, joining in the teasing.

“I hate you all!” Yunus cries when Bernd pulls Marc to him so that he can complete what Yunus so rudely interrupted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Background to the 2009 U17 boys' friend ship can be read in [It's a plan.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6930727)


	17. Three: Arithmetic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bernd is unhappy with Marc-André's basic maths skills
> 
> Marc-André may have initiated the concept of 'three', but that doesn't mean Bernd hasn't completely bought into it ('coz, he most definitely has!)

Bernd already has Netflix playing in the background when Marc-André finally arrives, and he hurries straight to the living room where his counterpart is in the process of folding laundry.

“Hey,” he says, leaning over quickly in greeting, then settling down on the couch for their scheduled TV catch-up. "What did I miss? Was it the director or his assistant?"

It takes about a minute of silence for Marc to realise that Bernd hasn’t replied to him, and when he turns, the other keeper has a frown on his face. “What’s wrong?”

“Have you lost your ability to count, ter Stegen?” Bernd asks, faintly sarcastic.

Marc blinks. “What? Count what?”

“That was two.”

Marc blinks some more. “Two, what?”

Bernd’s nostrils flare in annoyance, then he taps the side of his mouth twice.

Marc’s eyes widen. _Oh._ “Oops?” he offers.

Bernd’s eyes narrow.

Marc shuffles over, pressing another three lingering kisses to the corner of Bernd’s mouth. “Sorry,” he mumbles, waiting for the inevitable eye-roll before pushing himself back onto the couch.

“Definitely the director,” Bernd says, finally satisfied, and Marc smiles, grabbing some clothes to fold and settling in for a few hours of mindless TV.


	18. Three: Rivalry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Redefining friendly rivalry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set in the beginning of the 2019/2020 season, after [_Count to three_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6434710/chapters/15807445) during the first Bayern-Leverkusen match (in which, if you picked up on the hints, Marc has moved back to Germany to take over from Manu as Bayern's keeper.)

In the end, what makes it even more strange is that it doesn’t feel strange at all. As soon as the Leverkusen players make their way down the tunnel and Bernd takes his place next to him with Thomas and Lars in front of them, Marc-André feels himself relax, and actually has to resist the urge to grin like an idiot.

Naturally, Bernd notices, and rolls his eyes at him. “What’s got you so giddy?” he asks, not even bothering to lower his voice.

Thomas turns to give them an amused look. “We’re gonna kick your asses,” the lanky captain says.

“Fighting words,” Lars interjects with a smile

“We all know how this is going to end,” Thomas grins.

“Let’s see at the end of the 90 minutes,” the Leverkusen captain says, also grinning.

“Wow, did you two just hijack our conversation to shit-stir each other?” Marc asks, bewildered.

“Were you saying anything meaningful, ter Stegen?” Lars asks, making Thomas laugh.

Marc reaches out to punch the midfielder lightly, and is about to respond when they start to make their way to the pitch.

“Good luck,” Bernd says softly as they follow their team captains out.

Marc quickly taps the corner of his mouth three times. “You too,” he says, “but not too much, right? Because we really are going to kick your asses.”

“Really?” Bernd sighs, but Marc can almost feel the smile in the other keeper's voice. When Bernd lifts his hand to tap at his own mouth, Marc doesn’t stop the grin from coming out; he had reason to smile after all.


	19. Three: Time-out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is what it feels like when you know that you're (finally) learning from your past mistakes. And that's a good thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set some time after [All In](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6434605/chapters/15479200)

Marc-André clenches his teeth so hard he’s giving himself a headache, but he keeps his mouth shut because he knows that if he gives in to the temptation to snap out, he might say something he’ll regret later on. They’re arguing, yes, but he’s not about to forget just how close they’d come to losing what they had because of careless words, and despite how angry they both are, he knows that Bernd feels the same.

“Okay, stop!” Bernd says, running his hand through his hair in frustration. “We’re not going anywhere here and I can’t talk to you when I’m this angry.”

Marc nods, face tight, mouth still pursed together in an angry line, watching as Bernd pockets his phone and goes to look for his keys. He just frowns some more as Bernd motions to him to come over, but walks to where the other keeper is waiting at the door anyway, instinctively pulling his counterpart to him so he can place three short kisses to the corner of Bernd’s mouth.

They don’t say anything more as Bernd leaves. It's not perfect, but it’s what they have, and as long as they both know that there’s enough there to keep going, giving up is not an option, so they step back and give each other space; taking time out is infinitely better than the alternative.

Marc makes his way to the kitchen in order to cook some of his anger away. He knows Bernd won’t be back for a few hours yet, but he could at least get dinner started for when the other keeper finally got home.


	20. Three: Interview

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marc-André, being purposefully subtle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set during the 2022 Qatar World Cup

They grab him even before he can make it down the tunnel, and naturally they ask about his performance as though it was unusual and not just another day in goal for him.

“You looked incredibly inspired out there,” the reporter says. “Was there any particular reason for it?”

Marc-André really wants to roll his eyes, but he’s still giddy from the win and yeah, he _knows_ he played well and he’s letting himself indulge in the feeling of a job very well done.  Honestly, though, there was no extra reason – all he was doing was raising his game to fit the situation – but he’s not going to bypass the chance to have some fun.

He smiles at the reporter, and raises his hand to his face. “Of course there is,” Marc says, tapping the side of his mouth three times with his finger. “I’m playing for my country with the best team in the world; it’s the quarter finals and Spain are the toughest opponent we’ve had so far – who wouldn’t be inspired?”

It’s the usual ‘team spirit’ spiel he’d perfected in the years of playing and giving interviews, and the reporter looks a little disappointed at his response. Marc, however, is resisting the urge to grin like a maniac because of how clueless the world would be to his little gesture. That’s okay, though, it wasn’t meant to be for the world anyway.

Although his often oblivious counterpart probably won’t even watch this interview what with all that’s happening right now, maybe one day Bernd _will_ see it and understand that he’s done this rather subtle but public declaration on purpose – and even if they’re the only ones who know the meaning behind it, it’s all that matters in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been fun (and _weird_ , tbh) writing so much fluff for these two, but it's time to _finally_ say goodbye to this series so I can get a move on with the next one.
> 
>    
> Thanks for staying with me on this and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
> 
> If you want more, there are a collection of post-retirement fics in [Life in colour](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8137273/chapters/18651982), with some more _adult_ stories in [Turn the lights down low](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8204710/chapters/18796522).

**Author's Note:**

> I have a [tumblr account ](khalehla.tumblr.com) for my writings and random ficlets. If you have a question about this or any of my other stories, come say hi :)
> 
> \--  
> Disclaimer: I write **_fiction_** about real people. As far as I know, none of these events ever happened; any resemblance to any actual events are purely coincidental.  
>  \--


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